Liminal Rant

do me a favour and learn to shout through the tips of your fingers, and then tell me you don't think so. tell me you don't feel so. your 5000 day head-start and the sighs they produce, soundtrack all the ends of my orange days. there is a flask-sipping suit at the back of this bus, and not even my baby toe is jealous of his life. and me? i'm starting to believe that every beautiful thing that exists is just for you. despite my mechanical meandering between two half- homes, in my mind (all the while) our fingers are interlaced (like tectonic plates, shifting and grinding) as we continue to sprout and bloom. dearest thing, might i now retire from my pugilist's post? my knees are tired and my mouth aches for yours. your eyes speak my mother tongue and it is for this reason that it's all i can do to not hoist my branches skyward and shriek in reckless chorus with all of my liberated hearts.

Shannon Kornelsen

Shannon Kornelsen woke up today Toronto, Ontario and anticipates she'll be there at least until the snow comes. 

She cohabitates with a cat named Shakes, a dog named Sophie, and a handsome man she calls 'Joseph'.

SHELFLIFEMAGAZINE : issue #012